


Right-hand Man

by Purpleneutrino (mackerelmademedoit)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Universe, Falling In Love, Fluff, Insecurity, Light Angst, M/M, Post Season 2, pre-season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9927815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mackerelmademedoit/pseuds/Purpleneutrino
Summary: “Keith, it's late,” Lance continued, his jaw feeling too heavy to move properly. “You need to sleep. Please…”‘I'm worried about you. We're all worried about you.’“I can't.”“I know, I know —shit— I know.” Lance rubbed at his face and brought his hands down gently onto Keith's shoulders. “But buddy you've got to try.”---With Shiro gone, everyone is hurting, but no one more so than Keith. Of course Lance had noticed. Everybody had. But that didn't mean Lance had expected Keith to turn up one night outside his room, wanting to talk. Why him? What could Keithpossiblywant from him? Much more than Lance ever realised apparently.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Pre-Season 3 fic!**
> 
> A little stress relief fic I've been working on. I still have a lot of S2 feelings to work through ~~I'm writing the Entangled update too I swear~~
> 
> Beta'd by my bf <3 Cheers luv

The last person Lance had expected to see when he answered the knocking on his bedroom door was _Keith_ of all people, but here he was at god-knows-what space time outside Lance’s room, asking if he could ‘talk to him for a dobash or two’. Lance pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted at the harsh light of the corridor.

“Keith,” he said with a small sigh. If this had been any other time in the week or two previous, he wouldn't have hesitated to shriek at Keith and send him on his way for daring to disturb him at this ungodly hour. But these days, these dark, disturbing days where the Shiro-sized gap in their lives only ever seemed to grow larger as time went on, Lance didn't have it in him. He _couldn't_. Not with Keith standing before him looking worse than an empty shell and his fiery spark reduced to a dying ember. Lance didn't need to see the dark shadows underneath Keith's eyes to know that he hadn't slept properly for days. He'd heard Keith's restless pacing outside in the corridor off both their rooms. Lance had taken to counting Keith's paces now on his own sleepless nights. It didn't do much to lull him however, especially when Keith's steps had a tendency to follow him into his dreams afterwards.

“Keith, it's late,” Lance continued, his jaw feeling too heavy to move properly. “You need to sleep. Please… ”

_‘I'm worried about you. We're all worried about you.’_

“I can't.”

“I know, I know —  _shit —_  I know.” Lance rubbed at his face and brought his hands down gently onto Keith's shoulders. “But buddy you've got to try.”

A complicated array of emotions played about Keith's face as Lance watched him. The boy’s shoulders were cold beneath his hands. Lance squeezed them lightly without thinking.

“Lance,” Keith met his eyes with a tired but determined gaze. “This is important.” He reached up to hold onto one of Lance’s hands on his shoulder, removing it slowly. “I've got to talk to you about this now before it drives me crazy.” Lance stared at him. Keith was still clasping his hand. It was as cold as the rest of him. How long had he been out here pacing? Lance gave another resigned sigh.

“Alright, if I talk to you about… whatever this is, will you promise to go to bed and try to sleep?” Bargaining like this was the only way any of them could get Keith to carry out most basic living functions at the moment. Things like like sleeping, eating, showering, not training himself to exhaustion on the training deck —

Sure enough, Keith nodded earnestly, his hand now holding Lance’s in a vice like grip. A frozen vice. Lance would’ve complained if the action wasn't one of the few energetic motions left in Keith's repertoire. He pointed deliberately at Keith's face.

“Two dobashes."

“Two dobashes.”

“Deal,” Keith finally released his hand. “Come in then I guess. It's freezing out here.”

It wasn’t much warmer inside Lance’s room really, but at least this way they weren’t standing awkwardly outside and Lance had an excuse to get Keith off his feet finally by pushing him firmly down to sit on the edge of his bed. Keith didn’t resist, letting out a small sigh of relief as the weight was taken off his feet. Lance took a seat beside him, watching as Keith rolled his shoulders and rubbed at his neck. The thought of offering a back rub briefly crossed Lance’s mind, but he let the thought pass by. Keith wasn’t Hunk.

The boy in question stretched and fell down onto Lance’s bed to stare up at the canopy and Lance raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t Hunk, but Keith had become an awful lot more comfortable in Lance’s presence lately. Lance cleared his throat.

“So, what is it?” he said and Keith straightened back up to look at him. “What did you want to talk about?” Keith looked down at his lap, clenching and unclenching his fists, and made a face.

“It’s —” he hesitated, opening and closing his mouth a few times before setting it into a thin line. “S-sorry this is hard.” Lance’s curiosity piqued at that. Whatever this was, it was serious. And while Keith was rarely _not_ serious, this was something clearly much more important than Lance had previously suspected if Keith, who usually had no fear of speaking his mind, was having trouble talking about it, and _apologising_ for that fact no less.

And to _him._ Lance. Someone whom Keith barely tolerated and only occasionally worked well together with. Lance’s stomach twisted in guilt at that. That was mostly his fault. Letting his jealousy and pride get in the way of forming what could actually be a good partnership and, dare he hope, something they could actually consider a friendship between them. Of course it had taken something as dramatic as their team leader literally vanishing into thin air to bring his pettiness into an uncomfortable light. Shiro was gone, and now what? He felt like he was losing his childhood innocence all over again, forced to face the reality of their grim situation. With Shiro here, it had been _easy_ to let him take on the burden of leadership and all the hardships that it came with, _easy_ for Lance to pretend that this whole Voltron thing was just one big adventure in space. Yeah they had responsibilities — defending the universe and all that — but it was _fun._ He was living out his dream of being a pilot in the most unbelievably radical way possible and exploring the vastness of the universe on top of that. It was something that made him feel like he had the luxury of indulging in perhaps more frivolous things like rivalries.

Losing Shiro had been a sobering experience for all of them to say the least. Sobering except maybe for the teammate beside him, who was currently chewing a hole through his bottom lip and still not speaking.

“It’s cool,” Lance spoke up after a few more moments of quiet. “I’m not exactly going anywhere.” Keith nodded at him gratefully and went back to staring at his hands, brow furrowed.

In hindsight, Lance thought as he watched Keith carefully out of the corner of his eye, Keith had always taken the whole Voltron thing a lot more seriously than the rest of them. Right from the get go. It was something they had all teased him about at some point, though admittedly Lance more than most. “Let your mullet down once in a while,” Lance had said to him, on more than one occasion, and Keith had only given him a frown in response. Even Shiro had tried, gently to convince him to loosen up a little during a celebration on one of the planets they had liberated from Zarkon’s rule. Keith had remained stubbornly sullen however, his hand rarely relaxing out of its clutch over his Bayard. This behaviour had only seemed to escalate the further into their Voltron mission they progressed. It was as though Keith only ever expected bad things to happen, as though nothing good could ever last, and… well...

Keith had been depressingly right on that one.

Lance felt a twinge of shame. He felt stupid now. Childish even. This was why Keith was better than him. The better pilot, the better fighter, the better candidate for Shiro to take on missions with, the only one capable of —

“Lance.”

Lance started slightly as Keith’s voice, soft and tentative, interrupted his spiralling train of thought and he refocused his gaze on him.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to lead Voltron.”

Lance’s mouth fell open slightly, but he recollected himself quickly at the look of panic he saw in Keith’s eyes. Keith spoke again, his eyes darting about wildly and leg jiggling against Lance’s as though he was preparing to leap up and tear out of there at any moment. “I — I don’t want to, but Shiro told me that he wanted me to if he ever —”

“I know,” Keith turned fast to look at him, wide-eyed in surprise.

“Know what?”

“That Shiro wanted you to lead.”

“But I never told -”

“Yeah but, it was kind of obvious dude,” Lance sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, not caring how much it must be sticking up on end right now. “I mean, Allura did tell the rest of us —”

“She did?”

“— but even before that, I kinda knew. I mean, he — he trusts you the most.” _‘Trusted,’_ the darker side of Lance’s mind supplied him with before he could quash it. “Always has.” Lance tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he spoke, but he had a feeling he was failing. “You’re his right-hand man, Keith. Like literally, you’re his right-hand man.” The corners of Keith’s mouth twitched upwards slightly at that and Lance felt a smug sense of achievement at being the one to have pried that one free from him. Keith hadn’t smiled in over a week. “So really, that’s not exactly a surprise.” Lance watched as Keith dropped his gaze, appearing to be mulling over Lance’s words.

“But I don’t want to,” he said again after a while. His voice was quiet and full of a shame, so jarring coming from Keith _,_ that Lance felt compelled to say something, just to stop Keith from talking in that tone of voice anymore.

“Is that why you’re here?” he blurted out, and Keith looked back at him, biting his lip again. Lance felt a strange jolt in his chest. Was Keith… confiding in him? Asking for advice?

… looking for an alternative solution?

“U-um,” Keith stuttered out. “I’m here because I don’t want to do it, but I think I might have to.” Lance frowned at him, confused. So how did _he_ come into all this? Keith went quiet again, leaving Lance to his own whirlwind thoughts. He watched Keith openly now, taking in his hunched posture, the dark hair that hung lank as he bowed his head, making the shadows under his eyes seem even more pronounced, and the small vibrations of his clasped hands on his thigh as it still jiggled restlessly against Lance’s. It struck Lance then just how _alone_ Keith appeared to look, despite Lance being right here next to him, despite Keith choosing to come and see him, despite how closely he had decided to sit next to Lance right now —

_Keith wanted his support._

Lance exhaled slowly. This was a lot to take in.

_‘Why me?’_

Out of everyone else, Keith has chosen him. And Lance just couldn’t wrap his head around that. Something stirred in his chest, a strange warmth full of affection and pride blooming inside him.

_‘Keith chose me.’_

His face felt a little warm. Maybe friendship wasn’t as completely off the cards as he’d thought. Keith was still silent, not looking at him and Lance took a breath, steeling himself.

“Do you think you can’t do it?” he said softly. Keith’s eyes were wide when he met his gaze once more. The look on his face made Lance’s heart leap unpleasantly in his chest. He looked more vulnerable than Lance had ever seen him before.

“I — I don’t —” Keith brought a hand to his face, muffling his words slightly. "I don’t think **—** ” Lance interrupted before he could stop himself.

“Because you could,” Lance said, surprising himself about as much as he apparently surprised Keith, judging by his expression. Did he really think that? His heart thumped hard against his rib cage.

“I… what?” Keith said.

“Don’t get me wrong, you wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice,” Lance cringed internally at his own words.  _‘That wasn’t the right way to go about assuring someone idiot!’_ But he carried on. “That would be Shiro. Obviously.”

“Obviously, but —”

“—but that doesn’t mean you can’t give it a shot, right?”

“That’s not what — Lance, listen —”

“Look, as much as it pains me to admit, you’re the best pilot out of all of us.” Lance felt a flush forming on his face at how easy it was to admit that fact in front of Keith, “and the best fighter.” The words were tumbling out of him at an embarrassingly alarming rate now. “And sure you’ve made some bad decisions, but haven’t all of us?”

“Lance —”

“It’s not like Shiro’s perfect either! He’s screwed up before. At least that’s something you can get better at.” Keith scowled at him.

“Just because I have — I have _potential_ doesn’t mean that I can —!”

“You have more than just potential, Keith! What are you —?”

“Lance!” There was a fire in Keith’s tone that made the rest of Lance’s words shrivel and die on his tongue, but at the same time, he felt relieved. _There_ was Keith. The fire hadn’t gone out completely. Not yet.

“It’s not that I think I couldn’t do it at all,” Keith continued, and Lance opened his mouth again, but Keith didn’t give him a chance to interrupt this time. “But it doesn’t feel right. Not right now.” Lance sat frozen as Keith looked at him heatedly. His eyes looked glassy, “I can’t lead Voltron. Not properly. I can’t pilot Black. I won’t do it! That would be like accepting he’s **—** ”

He stopped talking abruptly and a heavy, sickening weight settled in Lance’s stomach.

_Like accepting Shiro wouldn’t be coming back._

Keith’s face was in his hands now, curling forward with his elbows resting on his knees, and Lance gave into the urge to touch him. Cautiously, he reached out a hand and rested it on Keith’s back, rubbing in slow circles. Keith stiffened, but only for a moment before relaxing into his touch.

“I’m getting him back,” Keith said into his hands. Lance felt the vibrations of his voice under his palm. “And if you guys will follow me, I will lead,” he inhaled slowly, shakily. “But not with Voltron. I will pilot Red because I am the red paladin.” He sat up then, wiping his face and turning to look back at Lance again. Lance kept his hand on his back. “But I won’t do it alone.” Lance nodded at him.

“Y-yeah of course,” Lance said, feeling bemused. Did Keith really think they’d let him go off on his own to find Shiro? “Of course we’ll all come with you! Why did you think that we — ?” Keith shook his head.

“That’s… not what I mean,” Keith was avoiding his eyes now and Lance thought his own eyes must be playing tricks on him, for he swore he could see a light flush beginning to spread across Keith’s face. “I — I need… a right-hand man.”

Lance stared at him.

Keith needed a… what?

Lance opened and closed his mouth a couple of times.

_A right-hand man._

Keith was staring back at him again, a strange, determined glare on his face as though challenging him to… something. His face was getting redder by the second.

_Right-hand…_

Lance gaped at him and that only seemed to infuriate Keith more.

“Y-you—” Lance’s throat suddenly felt like it was on fire and his face felt hot enough to rival Keith’s. “You want —?”

_‘Me?!’_

Keith looked away from him.

“But I’m —!”

_‘Just… me!’_

Lance was now painfully aware that his hand was _still on Keith’s back._ But he couldn’t move.

“And you don’t even — you don’t — I thought you didn’t —”

_‘You don’t even like me!’_

“You want me to be your — your —”

_‘I don’t even have a THING!’_

Something in Keith appeared to snap and he turned his head with such force that Lance was surprised he didn’t sprain something.

“Why is this so hard for you to believe?!” he spat, looking downright murderous now. Lance swallowed and tried to regulate his breathing that had become humiliatingly erratic.

“So… so…” he spoke slowly, trying to give his brain time enough to catch up with his mouth. “You came here tonight to… that’s why…” he trailed off, staring down at his hand that had at some point moved from Keith’s back to grasp at his arm instead. Keith didn’t seem to mind. At least, he wasn’t pushing him away. Keith gave him a curt nod.

“I came here to… ask you,” he said stiffly. “Ask if I could count on you to be… be my right-hand man.” He mumbled his last words, but they rang in Lance’s ears as though he had shouted. And his brain still couldn’t process them — couldn't process this _entire situation_.

Without thinking, Lance reached out with both hands to grasp Keith’s that were still balled awkwardly into fists on his thighs. Keith let out a small noise of shock, but said nothing.

“But why me?” he said, speaking louder than he’d intended. Keith flinched a little and frowned again.

“Why _not_ you?”

“Because — because I —” Lance bit his lip. Comforting someone else about their insecurities was one thing, talking about his own was a whole other kettle of very uncomfortable fish. He looked at Keith, who was waiting patiently for him to continue and Lance felt, for the first time, something akin to a bond between them. Keith’s hands were much warmer now beneath his and whether he realised he was doing it or not, Keith was now slowly running his thumb over Lance’s own. The motion set Lance’s heart racing but yet he felt calmer, comforted. He tried to speak again.

“Because I’m Lance,” he said finally, hating how dejected his voice sounded when it came out. “You’ve never liked me and I’ve done nothing but annoy you since we met. And I can’t exactly blame you for that. I don’t have anything I’m really _good_ at. You _do_ cool shit and I _say_ dumb shit. Everyone else on the team has a thing — contributes something you know? No one expects that of me. What do I do? What do I offer us?” He wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it, but Lance thought he’d felt Keith’s hands squeeze his slightly. “Why would you trust me to be the one you count on to be by your side?”

When he’d finished talking, Lance felt empty. Everything that had been building up inside of him, all his worries, fears and insecurities, now hung between the two of them, lingering in a dense fog. Things he had never even told Hunk were now laid out bare before the last person he’d ever envisioned confessing them to. Lance searched Keith’s face desperately for a sign of… anything, but Keith’s face was blank. His eyes on Lance’s however were bright with an emotion that Lance couldn’t quite understand. Then, very slowly, Keith’s blank expression gave way to a familiar look of confusion.

“But I _do_ like you,” he said faintly, and Lance’s throat contracted as he tried not to choke. “We’re friends aren’t we?” his complete bewilderment was plain from the tone of his voice, and Lance felt like he’d just got ejected out one of the Castle airlocks.

“R-right,” he managed breathlessly, but Keith wasn’t done.

“And you’re our sharpshooter,” he said, raising an eyebrow at him. “Who else would I trust more to watch my back?”

Lance’s head was spinning. He gripped Keith’s hands tighter in an attempt to stop the feeling of the ground giving way beneath his feet.

“Lance?”

Keith was looking at him with concern, a tiny crease forming between his eyebrows. Lance had the strange urge to poke it, smooth it out.

“Err…?”

What could he say? Everything he’d thought about Keith and their relationship had been turned on it’s head in the space of two dobashes — well — considerably more than two dobashes now, but dobashes nonetheless. He tried to will his heart to stop racing at light-speed and the heat to die down in his face.

“I - I guess that makes sense,” he forced out eventually and the compulsion to bury his face into his hands was almost unbearable. Embarrassingly, the thought of having to let go of Keith’s hands in this moment was what prevented him from doing exactly that, “So…”

“So.”

“Well,” Lance licked his lips as a small smile began to set in there. “It could take me some getting used to. You know, going from being a leg to a hand? But I’ve been told I’m adaptable.” Keith laughed loudly and… _wow._ Lance didn’t remember the last time he’d heard Keith laugh, but he definitely didn’t remember it sounding quite that good. His insides squirmed, but not at all unpleasantly. He finally let go of Keith’s hands, his palms tingling.

“Yeah you are,” Keith said when he’d finished laughing. “Which is why I need you.” He was still smiling, but his tone was one of utmost seriousness.

_I need you._

Quiznak. Keith’s praise was… something else. Lance was suddenly feeling very hot all over.

He could get used to that.

Coughing awkwardly, Lance stood up off the bed and made a show of stretching his arms, even though he really didn’t feel the need to at all. He felt Keith’s eyes on him as he did so and felt immediately self-conscious.

“Well, now that’s settled,” he said turning to point at Keith. “You need to keep up your end of our promise.” Keith blinked at him.

“What?”

“We had a deal. I listen. You sleep. Remember?”

“Oh! Right… yeah…”

“And I listened to you moan for way longer than a measly two dobashes —”

“I — sorry…”

“So consider this being me watching your back.”

Lance grinned down at the dumbfounded look on Keith’s face and reached out to grab his hand again, pulling him to his feet. Once Lance’s words appeared to register in Keith’s brain, a small smile broke out across his face and Lance felt his heart soar.

“Right,” Keith said again, a warm look in his eyes that Lance wouldn’t ever have guessed would be directed at him in a million years. “Thank you, Lance.” Keith let go of his hand and walked out the door, heading back towards his own room. Before he could change his mind, Lance called out to him.

“You didn’t even need to ask you know.” Keith turned to him, with a small snort of laughter. Lance noticed the redness on his face however.

“Well, clearly I did.”

“Shut up second-rate leader.”

“You’re on your way to getting demoted back down to a leg.”

“Whatever. Goodnight, Keith.”

“Night, Lance.”

* * *

 

He didn’t realise it at first, not until many months after they had gotten Shiro back and they found themselves, as they often did, in the middle of a less than favourable situation with the Galra. Lance careered Blue sharply to the right as he dodged a round of laser fire, taking out a large group of fighters that were flanking Keith and Red as he did so.

“Thanks, Lance!” Keith said over the comms and Lance grinned.

“No problem, man.”

“I think Pidge and Hunk have these guys covered,” Keith continued. “Let’s head back to cover Shiro. Follow me.”

“Right behind you.”

_‘I’ll always follow you.’_

The thought floated up to the forefront of his mind, distracting him enough that he almost didn’t dodge the round of lasers that came at him from his left. Blue gave a low growl, chiding him to focus and he ushered her back a hasty apology.

“You okay back there?” Keith said.

“Y-yeah I’m good!”

Lance’s heart was thumping wildly and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the battle that raged around them.

“Good. I need you focused. Still need you watching my back until we get out of this zone.”

“Don’t worry, Keith —”

_‘I’ll always have your back.’_

“Did you forget who you were talking to or something?”

_‘I’ve got you.’_

“I’m your right-hand man remember?”

_‘I’m yours.’_

“I’ve got you covered.”

_‘And I’m never letting you go.’_

“Good to know,” Keith said, and the warmth in his voice still sent Lance’s heart racing in the same way as it had done all that time ago back in Lance’s bedroom. Lance wet his lips as his mind came to rest in a gentle realisation.

Of course.

Blue's purrs rumbled in his chest. He opened his mouth.

“Keith?” his voice shook a little, but he otherwise felt calm. “You — you know I’ll always follow you right?”

Silence.

Lance counted the ticks.

“What?”

“Y-you know that, even though Shiro’s back and all, you’re still —” he paused, heart lodged in his throat. “I’ll still follow you, yeah?”

“I — err…”

“Whatever happens,” Lance had to get the words out before he lost his nerve. “Now, after Voltron or whenever. I want to be alongside you. I’ll follow you. Forever. I mean that.” Lance’s heart felt ready to leap out his chest and his voice was hoarse. “I’d follow you to the ends of the Universe.”

A pause.

Lance held his breath, feeling light headed. The heat radiating off his face was making his helmet feel clammy, and the ticks passed by agonisingly slow. Then a loud coughing rang out over the comms, and Lance’s heart leapt as Keith’s face popped up on Blue’s dashboard. His cheeks were pink.

“Right back at you,” Keith said quietly. He smiled. “To the ends of the Universe.” Lance grinned back at him.

“That’s one hell of a road trip.”

“I hear hellish road trips aren’t as bad as long as you’re in good company.” Lance laughed.

“Then what are we waiting for?” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always highly appreciated! ^-^ Feel free to come chat with me on tumblr/twitter:
> 
> [Tumblr](http://purpleneutrino.tumblr.com) | [Twitter](https://twitter.com/purpleneutrino)
> 
> ETA: Did some art based on this fic idea [here](http://purpleneutrino.tumblr.com/post/158448954650/can-i-count-on-you-to-be-my-right-hand-man-not) if anyone is interested!


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